


Seat of the Empire

by TheBeastofBurton



Series: Songs of the Cobblestones [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Basically PWP, Companion Piece, F/F, Intimacy, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, and tell me you didn't think about something like this, go on and look at the Dragon Maw throne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeastofBurton/pseuds/TheBeastofBurton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Booze and bad ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seat of the Empire

**Seat of the Empire**

            “Is the coast clear?”

            “Can’t tell.  It’s dark.  Why is it always so bloody dark in here?”

            “’Cause it’s nighttime, you prat,” Sera giggled drunkenly, taking another swig of the really fantastic brandy they’d almost finished off.  Dating the Inquisitor really had its perks sometimes.

            “Go check!” Elisabeth whispered loudly, grinning crookedly as she pushed Sera into the main hall.  “If there’s someone there they’ll see me and the, the…y’know.”

            Sera stumbled out into the dark hall and gave it a quick once over.  It really was the middle of the night, so everyone was already hours off to bed.  Even the fires were sleeping, burnt down to glowing embers that threw barely-there shadows on the black stone.  Not a soul to be seen.  Ruddy _perfect_.

            “S’no one,” she assured, turning back around so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet.  She leaned over and grabbed a handful of Elisabeth’s shirt and dragged her out of the doorway.  “C’mon, gorgeous.  Things to do.  Like me.”

            Elisabeth made an eager little growling noise in the back of her throat, twisting up and hand in Sera’s hair and leaning in to kiss her, hard and messy.  She already tasted like sex.  “I can’t believe were doing this,” she mumbled into Sera’s mouth as Sera’s heels hit the bottom step.  “How did you even think of this?”

            “How did you _not_?”  Piss, it was hard to back up a set of steps drunk while Elisabeth was doing that thing against her ear.  “Wanted to do it since the first time I saw the thing.  S’a ruddy waste, watching you just sit there.”

            “Gotta do the judging thing from somewhere,” Elisabeth pointed out, gripping Sera by the waist when she tripped back on the last step.  “And this one’s all scary and dragon-y.  Thought you’d like that.”

            “Frigging right I do.”  She let Elisabeth pick her all the way up off the floor for the last few steps, grinning at the feel of all that muscle working in those broad shoulders.  “Killed the thing meself and now m’gonna take my woman on it.”  Elisabeth barked with laughter and dropped Sera hard on the seat of the throne.

            “Ferelden _brute_ ,” she purred in that clean, proper accent with a not-at-all proper smile on her face as she dropped to her knees.  “’Fraid your woman’s gonna take you first, though.”

            Sera’d anticipated this turn of events, and smirked down smugly when Elisabeth made a choked little noise at the decided lack of underpants she encountered.  Shouldn’t have been that hard to guess, really; they’d been at it for hours already and to throw on more than an overshirt would’ve taken time where they could be at it again faster.  Not that the dance Elisabeth had to do to get back into her breeches wasn’t a laugh riot.

            It’d be a lie to say Sera didn’t let herself get caught up in the image for a moment.  Looking out on a darkened palace fit for any crowned head in Thedas while the head that would’ve worn that crown ducked between her legs.  The Herald of Andraste, kneeling at her feet like a trained mabari.  Bit of a trip, really.  She let her own head tip back against the upholstery, watching the starlight on the smoke hazed up in the rafters, one hand sliding over soft hairs on the back of the neck of a woman who could claim frigging godhood as the emptied bottle of brandy slipped from her other hand.

            The glass didn’t break, but it made a pissing racket on the stone as it bounced away.  Elisabeth laughed against her at the noise, pulling back just far enough to wipe her mouth against the inside of Sera’s thigh.  The moment was gone and Sera’s chest burned because this was what they really were.  Not the Herald at all, just a stupidly lovely girl and her cheeky smirk.  Not the Inquisitor and the Jenny, not Lady Trevelyan and the street rat that helped bring down a magister’s dragon.  Just Sera and Beth frigging around in places they shouldn’t.

            “C’mere.”  She tugged on Elisabeth’s shirt until she pushed up on her arms far enough for Sera to kiss her.  Wet and slow and _right_ , so _right_.  Sera rocked her whole body into it, holding on when the movement forced Elisabeth back to her feet, letting go when she twisted around and pushed Elisabeth down onto the throne.

            Elisabeth slouched back with a sloppy grin, eyes dark and unfocused in the dim light, shifting impatiently so Sera’s eye was drawn down to what was lurking in her lap.  Right fine purchase, that thingamawhatsit; Orlesians weren’t good for much but they did have some clever ideas about how to make shagging even more fun.  Plus the image of Josephine’s face when she saw _that_ on the supply invoice had entertained Sera for weeks.

            Sera leaned down and swung a leg over Elisabeth’s lap with a grin of her own, landing too far up to do anything about it right away.  She could feel it as they kissed again, stiff and a little cold against the already too-hot skin and she shivered at the threat of it.  Andraste knew it wasn’t just the prick itself; Sera’d been with a man once to see what all the fuss was about and was less than impressed by the performance.  But get a decent copy on a girl who knew how to use it and _woof_.

            Double woof with Elisabeth.  Woman was a frigging artist.

            “Up,” she grunted against Sera’s mouth, sliding her hands down Sera’s sides.  “You’re ready.”

            Bloody right she was ready, not that it made the first push much easier.  She fisted her hands in Elisabeth’s nightshirt, hissed at the stretch, the burning when she got impatient and tried to move faster.

            “Shh.”  A thumb sliding easily over the wet skin, right where it was needed.  Not too fast, not too hard; just a firm, lazy pressure she couldn’t help but relax into.  Her breath hitched as she bottomed out, sitting fully on Elisabeth’s lap.  “Good girl,” Elisabeth whispered hoarsely.

            “Not on your life, Tadwinks,” Sera growled, flashing her teeth as she rolled her hips up and started to move.  Andraste’s frigging _tits_ , there was nothing quite like this; push and pull, drag and slide, hands grabbing desperately at her hips.  Sex, sweat, brandy, leather and _Beth_ , the smell of her, the feel of her legs shaking under the wool of her breeches, the sound of her breathless begging.

            Sera was starting to lose the fight to keep her eyes open, sliding into the murky, throbbing impulse to move, move, _move_ when she really saw it for the first time.  The shadow shape of the throne in the light leaking through the colored glass.  A memory of Denerim cut through her like a knife; the fire, the fear, the roar she couldn’t block out no matter how hard she covered her ears.

            _No_.  She shook her head clear and reached up, wrapping her hands around two of the massive, pointy teeth they’d left in to make it look extra scary.  Elisabeth groaned loud at the sight, bucking harder up into her as she ran her hands up Sera’s middle.  _Piss_ , it was a good angle, but she couldn’t see anything but that horrible shape anymore.  She tightened her grip on the teeth and thought of the feel of her bow in her hands; straining wood, snapping string, stinging skin as the tips of her fingers cut open again.  Watching the arrow arc, a black blur across the red fire until it hit the mark and the dragon roared because _she made it_.

            Watch, you bastard, she thought at the shadow as she levered herself down and Elisabeth cried out.  Watch, you pile of bones.  You didn’t take her and you never will.  She’s mine and I’m alive.  _I’m_ the one still alive.

            Alive and burning inside and out, feeling Elisabeth go loose, looking down at her bright, wide eyes, seeing her look back like Sera was the reason she _breathed_.

            Alive and happy and not afraid anymore.

            The world went white behind her eyes as she slid down one last time, coming so hard the breath was knocked straight out of her.  She arched her back into the feeling and lost her grip in the same moment, yelping when she fell arse first onto the cold stone floor.

            “Shit!” Elisabeth shouted, sliding down to her knees as the sound echoed down the hall.  “What happened?  Are you alright?”  Andraste, she looked so worried, but Sera only noticed it for a second before the only thing she could see was the great big not-prick flopped out of her trousers, wobbling ridiculously in front of her.  Sera laughed so hard she couldn’t stay upright.

            Elisabeth looked down in complete confusion until she saw it herself and started giggling madly.  Wasn’t long before she couldn’t stay up either and she fell half-on-top of Sera, head landing squarely on her chest.  The smell of her hair and the weight of her arm made Sera feel all shiny on the inside.

            “You have the best ideas,” Elisabeth declared sleepily.

             “I know, right?”  Easily one of the best she’d ever had.  Much better than the ice cream/beer explosion last week; that just ended up bitter and gross.  The fizz was nice, though.  Maybe if she tried something sweeter, like the wine from they’d had at Halamshiral.  Wait, wait, wait; now _there_ was a good idea.

            “Think Celene’d let us use her’s?”

**The End**


End file.
